


I Helplessly Fall For You

by maple_txt



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Emotions, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Relationships, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Injury, M/M, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining Grantaire, Recovery, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-03
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-14 13:37:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9183892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maple_txt/pseuds/maple_txt
Summary: Grantaire thinks no one cares, he doesn't care so why should others. But he doesn't realise that people do care, people he didn't expect really care.[The one where Grantaire gets the help he wants and needs from the person he least expected it from]





	1. It's Not That Easy With You Here

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write something sad, and now i've decided that i want these losers to be happy so it's going to be going for however long now. enjoy. sorry for any mistakes.

Another day, another meeting, another pining Grantaire.

He sat in his corner of the Musain, watching the leader in red discuss the new plans and give out the orders to the others, only throwing a short occasional glance to the drunkard, but even that was enough to send a spark through the dark haired man’s body.

Grantaire had a perfect view of Enjolras, although it could be argued that any view of him is one of pure perfection. The man’s eyes raked over his form; his golden hair that sat so beautifully on his shoulders, his defined cheek bones and sharp jawline, his perfect stance presenting his toned figure and long limbs that moved gracefully to emphasise the precise words he spoke. He marvelled over everything about the other.

But it didn’t go unnoticed by Grantaire the negative emotions in Enjolras’ eyes as they looked the artist up and down. The only thing Grantaire believed he had going for himself was that his boxing with Bahorel kept him in shape. Other than that he had nothing. His face was not one of beauty, his hair was a mess, his hands were cold and calloused, his arms hidden under long sleeves most days to not show off his mental struggle. He was an alcoholic, a cynic and a good-for-nothing artist.

In his mind, there was no chance that such a stunning specimen such as Enjolras would ever see him as anything other than an acquaintance, he refused to believe that he would even be considered a friend. How could he be a friend when all he did was interrupt and annoy and stare?

His crush was noticed by everyone except Enjolras himself, it wasn’t hard to miss and it wasn’t uncommon for him to rant and rave about his love for the ‘Golden God’ whilst severely intoxicated – which was actually quite often. Most took pity on him, the love-struck man pining over someone he believed he couldn’t have. A few times he had tried to be convinced by the others that he deserved his love reciprocated by the other, but it was not a thought that lasted, only one that spurred on his bad thoughts.

He didn’t deserve anything. He didn’t deserve Enjolras, his friends, his life. He should be dead. He played a pointless role in this world. This idea constantly haunted his mind, and it had been implanted there for so long that he truly believed it.

“Why are you here?” His thoughts were interrupted by the one and only, Enjolras.

“That’s what I ask myself every day.” Grantaire took note of the frown that appeared on the other’s face. He also took the time to look around the café, almost everyone else had left, the meeting must have ended. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. The meeting’s ended?”

He received a nod in return. Enjolras didn’t even want to talk to him, didn’t wish to be near such a vile man, but he could walk away. Grantaire didn’t have the pleasure to do this, he was stuck in his body, his mind. If only he could, if he could leave.

There was one way he could really leave.

“Are you going to leave?” Enjolras seemed timid. By now, only himself, Enjolras and Combeferre remained in the Musain.

“I want to.” He muttered in return. He realised he was starting to let his thoughts out, but the alcohol had started to take his control by this point, he was ready to spill his thoughts to any poor bastard unlucky enough to be in proximity.

“Are - are you okay?” Enjolras wasn’t ready for the answer to that question, so Grantaire smiled.

“I’m fine.” And with that he stood, ready to leave but his path was blocked by Enjolras. He sighed and looked up to the other. Enjolras was only a few inches taller but Grantaire slouched and he slouched even further when drinking.

“Grantaire?” His voice this time had more of a commanding tone to it, similar to his voice during rallies.

“Apollo?” He returned with another sigh.

“Are you okay?” Grantaire got frustrated at the repeated question, so he rolled his eyes and made an attempt to pass Enjolras. However he was stopped by a hand wrapped around his wrist. Grantaire winced at the pain momentarily, praying to any God out there that Enjolras didn’t notice. He did.

Enjolras released his arm and Grantaire let it drop to his side. They shared a look of desperation: Enjolras desperate to question and Grantaire desperate to leave.

“Are you finally ready to go Enj?” Combeferre asked, here to save Grantaire from the embarrassment of opening up. “Still here R?”

“I was just leaving.” He waved and went to walk away.

“Wait!” Enjolras almost shouted, “Why don’t we give you a lift? It’s raining.” Grantaire stopped, faced away from the two men.

“You are in the same direction of our apartment, c’mon R.” Combeferre backed Enjolras up. Grantaire silently cursed to himself and turned to face the two again.

“You really don’t have to, I’m completely fine walk-“

“Nonsense.” Combeferre wrapped an arm around him and he was silenced, there was no use arguing with Combeferre. The three walked to the car and to his surprise, Enjolras sat in the back with Grantaire.

He looked out the window, doing his best to ignore everything going on around him. He stared at the sky. It was full of dark clouds with rain pouring from them, he knew this was the sight that would greet his eyes but he still had hoped to see the moon and the stars.

So he looked at his hands instead, tracing the dried paint smears gently with his fingers. Unknown to him, Enjolras was staring just as intently as he was until he got an idea.

After a few moments, Grantaire’s phone chimed. It was unusual for him to receive texts. He opened the message, shooting a glance at Enjolras when he saw who the sender was, but he was staring out the window.

‘Are you okay?’ Grantaire sighed and typed out his reply.

‘I’m completely fine.’ He stayed staring at Enjolras until he received an annoyed look from the other. Obviously he still wasn’t having any of Grantaire’s lies. He watched as Enjolras typed out another message.

‘Please stop lying to me. I want to help you.’ Grantaire chuckled at this.

‘I’m not here to be another one of your “causes” I’m fine.’

Enjolras was becoming frustrated, his eyebrows knitted together right above his eyes and his teeth had captured his cheek inside his mouth.

‘I’m not looking for another “cause” I want to help my friend.’ Grantaire stared at the message. He had called him his friend. What was he doing? Surely, Grantaire reasoned with himself, it was a mistake, or a trick. He didn’t reply.

“The next turning isn’t it?” Combeferre asked.

“Yeah.” Grantaire could feel Enjolras staring at him but he refused to give in, he couldn’t look at him, he couldn’t reply.

They reached his apartment block. It was dirty and ugly, Grantaire hated the place.

He got out the car after saying his thanks and just as he was about to enter the building, a voice stopped him.

“R please!” Enjolras was coming up behind him.

“What?” Grantaire turned, he didn’t know how much longer he could keep himself together.

“Talk to me.” Enjolras looked determined yet defeated. It was something Grantaire didn’t like, he hated to see Enjolras look anything other than as powerful as he was.

“It doesn’t matter, just, go home.” He tried to turn to get into the building but there was a hand on his shoulder. He sighed.

“It does matter.” Enjolras was quiet, “You matter.”

Grantaire felt the tears in his eyes ready to fall.

“See you later Apollo.” And with that he swiped the hand away from his shoulder and darted into the building as fast as he could.

As he got to his apartment, the tears were falling, his body was shaking, his mind having a complete meltdown. He didn’t know how to deal with Enjolras’ words. Kindness from a mouth that should only be shouting at him for his rudeness, for his stupidity, for his existence. 

He ignored his phone, he was receiving texts and a few calls, all obviously from Enjolras. He couldn’t talk to him, he doesn’t know how he’ll even look at him again. How can he go from wanting to spend an eternity staring at one man, to wanting to never see them again? Grantaire didn’t know what to do, so he did the one thing he knows: drink.

He finished a bottle easy, his mind started to clear, all thoughts vacating the intoxicated man. He lay on his floor staring at the ceiling when his phone went off again and in his now wasted state, he picked up.

“Grantaire!” Enjolras was shocked.

“Shh, it’s bed time.” Grantaire’s words were slurred.

“You’re drunk.”

“When am I not? It makes life easier.” Grantaire laughed.

“Grantaire.” Enjolras sounded tired.

“That’s me.”

“I know you won’t remember this, but please know that I care. I want you, and everyone, to be happy and okay. You matter, and even though you don’t believe in the groups cause, you’re presence at the meetings is gladly welcomed. I will be here to help you anytime okay?”

“I believe in you.”

“What?”

“I believe… in you.”

“Goodnight R, look after yourself please.”

“Is that an order?” Grantaire laughed.

“If it means you will then yes.”

“Yes sir.” Grantaire saluted to match his words despite Enjolras not being able to see him.

“Goodnight.” Enjolras hung up, leaving Grantaire alone in his dark, cold apartment.

He stood up, a bit unsteady on his feet, and made his way slowly to his bedroom. He didn’t sleep often, scared of the nightmares that are bound to consume him in slumber, but he liked to at least lay on his bed.

He took the same position he had on the floor, on his back staring straight up at the ceiling, and the longer he was there, the more the fog over his mind started to clear and the thoughts reappeared. He tried to remember as much of the conversation with Enjolras he could, tried to do as he had asked.

He closed his eyes and sighed. It was going to be another long night, except this time he had no way to relieve himself – his two options meant he was not looking after himself and he really didn’t want to upset Enjolras.

So he lay there, not sleeping, not doing anything except thinking.

He thought about what he could be doing. He thought about how he’s worthless. He thought about the stupid things he does. He thought about the phone call with Enjolras. He thought about what he had said. He thought about Enjolras.

It was going to be a long night indeed.


	2. But I Know That I Want You To Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire and Enjolras have a serious talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so i'm going to make this a thing, hopefully i'll be able to update often enough

Grantaire must have fallen asleep because as he opened his eyes light was pouring in through the window. He rubbed his eyes and yawned then threw his arm over to his bedside table looking for his phone, but it wasn’t there.

He sat up and reminded himself of last night. He groaned as he stood, back clicking when he stretched up. He sauntered into his living room where he found his phone on the floor. He picked it up and dropped himself on to the sofa skimming through the messages from Enjolras.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Please Answer.’

‘I’m sorry’

All similar, all apologetic, all trying to help. Grantaire felt terrible, he had a hangover but also he felt bad for Enjolras, he didn’t want him to be involved in this, he had more important things to deal with than Grantaire.

Just as he was about to put his phone down, he received another message from Enjolras.

‘Good morning, I hope you’re feeling better this morning. I was hoping we could meet up today?’

Any other day, Grantaire would have leapt at the opportunity to spend time with his crush, but he wasn’t sure if he could face him today.

He left his phone on the seat as he wandered to the kitchen. He took a paracetamol with a gulp of water before setting to work making coffee. He considered the possibility of contacting Eponine for advice, but realised he’d have to explain everything that happened and he’s not sure how easily he could get through it. He wondered if he could just ignore Enjolras but straight away realised that it wouldn’t work; it was Enjolras, when he wanted something, when he wanted to help, he did it. As he poured his coffee, he sighed in defeat.

Back on the sofa, he wrote out a reply to Enjolras: ‘Where do you wanna go?’

Surprisingly he received a text back almost straight away.

‘We can go to this café, it’s small and quiet. Or Ferre is out today so my apartment is empty.’

Grantaire believed the café to be the best option, it was easier to avoid conflict in public and a good excuse to not mention certain things in fear strangers judge him. So he replied and they decided to meet at 11:50 in the town centre then walk to the café (which wasn’t far according to Enjolras).

It was nearly 11 now so Grantaire downed his coffee before hopping in the shower. He stood mostly just thinking about what could happen today; it could go well and he and Enjolras have a pleasant conversation, or it could go terrible and Enjolras never speaks to him again.

Out of the shower he got dressed. He wore his cleanest white t-shirt (it still had some paint stains on it though), his black hoodie and black skinny jeans. He dried his hair as best he could before putting his green beanie atop his mess of hair. He looked at himself in the mirror, he looked like death.

He threw his leather jacket and shoes on and left the house trying to convince himself he was ready for the day. He wasn’t.

He reached the destination quickly and sat on a bench by the fountain. He was early, so he did some people watching during the busy hour. It was lunch time so everyone was out, all after their midday meal. Grantaire watched as mother strolled past pushing a pram and holding the hand of a small boy. She looked tired, the boy was trying his best to run away to play around. She stopped just a couple feet from Grantaire to speak to the child, he looked happy. She took a seat on the next bench over from him as the boy skipped to the fountain and pulled a coin out of his pocket.

Grantaire smiled to himself, he remembered the time his mother took him around their small village and gave him some change to get some sweets for himself. And the one day she took him out of school on his birthday so they could go to the seaside. He missed her.

His thoughts were interrupted by Enjolras. He was making his way through a crowd of people towards him.

“Grantaire.”

“Enjolras.” Grantaire smiled at him to which he received one in return before Enjolras took a seat next to him.

“How are you feeling?” Enjolras seemed concerned, already Grantaire was worrying about what was going to happen.

“Tired. Hungover. You?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t expect you to come honestly.” Enjolras looked away from Grantaire and to where Grantaire’s eyes were still fixed on the child now running back to his mother.

“How could I pass up the opportunity to meet with Apollo?” Grantaire turned to Enjolras and chuckled at the blush that consumed his cheeks. “Shall we go?”

They stood and Enjolras lead the way to the café he had spoken of previously. Grantaire looked him up and down; he was wearing a burgundy sweater with a dark shirt underneath with equally dark jeans and finished with his red parka.

“This is it.” Enjolras announced. It was small, as he had said. The outside looked old, the brickwork looking rough from general aging. There was a large window next to the open door that allowed a peak into the shop; it look cosy. As they entered, Grantaire noted the warm colours of the place and back wall that was covered from top to bottom from side to side in paintings and photos all varying greatly in size, but they all fit together well.

They walked to the counter where a young woman was stood reading a magazine. Grantaire marvelled at the cake stands full of beautiful looking cupcakes and a few pastries.

“A coffee?” Enjolras asked. Grantaire looked away from the red velvet cakes to look up at the other.

“Hm? Oh, yeah. Black.”

“Do you want a cake as well?” 

“No, it’s fine, it’s fine. Just the coffee.” Grantaire didn’t want Enjolras to spend any money on him for a drink never mind a cake.

So Enjolras ordered and the girl said she’d bring them over when they were ready. They sat by the decorated wall which allowed Grantaire to distract himself by inspecting the artwork. Enjolras let him just stare. Without looking at him, Grantaire asked Enjolras a question.

“I think I already know the answer, but why did you want to meet up?”

“Why do you think?” Enjolras seemed timid. Grantaire turned to him at this, he didn’t want to say it but thought it best to get it over with.

“Because you want me to talk about my problems. You want to help me. You think you can help me.”

They just stared at each other, Enjolras looked almost apologetic. The barista interrupted them with their drinks. They both took them into their hands.

“Look, Grantaire, I really do want to help you. I want to try. I want you to try.”

“You think I haven’t tried?”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He sighed. “I want you to let me try.”

“I’m just finding it hard to understand why you want to help me.” Grantaire looked into his cup, the dark liquid still too hot to sip.

“As annoying as you can be, you are my friend. I care about you as I do the others. You play a role in the group-“

“But I’m not import-“

“You are important!” Enjolras was getting louder. “Your interruptions and arguing means I better myself. And you do amazing artwork for us, don’t even say it’s bad because it’s good.” Grantaire was feeling embarrassed. He glanced at Enjolras, not trusting himself to stare back at him just yet.

“Look, Grantaire, I want to help you.”

“But you’re meant to help big causes, you’re meant to save the world.” Grantaire finally looked to him.

“The world can wait a bit longer.” Enjolras offered him a smile which he returned. “Please Grantaire?”

“Fine.” He sighed, “But, don’t be annoyed when I let you down.”

“I believe in you.”

Grantaire’s cheeks flushed pink. He didn’t know how he was going to do this. He had tried before, on his own and with help from Eponine but he so easily slips back into old habits.

Enjolras set to work straight away figuring out how he can best help the other. He asked for Grantaire’s history.

“I mean, I don’t know. My mum became an alcoholic as I got into my teens so I witnessed it. Then there was bullying at school. I was angry all the time, and eventually it lead to me, um, you know..” Grantaire didn’t want to say it, he had always tried to avoid the words.

“Self-harm?” Enjolras practically whispered. Grantaire nodded.

“Yeah. And um, I didn’t do it much. Then my mum died when I was 16.” Grantaire was silent for a moment, trying to hold back tears. Even though she changed in her final years, she had been a good mum. She pushed Grantaire to follow his dreams, she accepted his sexuality, she helped him when she could. He felt a warm hand cover his own, he looked up at Enjolras.

“I never knew.” Enjolras said apologetically.

“I think I’ve only actually told Eponine and Bahorel, but I think the others probably know from stuff I’ve done. But, um, yeah. I got sent to my Grandmother’s across the country who wasn’t fun. But that time went by quick, I stole alcohol from my Grandmother and kept my head down in college. College is also where I met Eponine. Then, as you know, came to university and quit after half a year. Grandma doesn’t want me back, just sends me bits of money. That’s it really, basically.”

“Do you mind me asking how your mum died?”

“Car crash. She was drunk. It’s why I don’t drive, I don’t want to end life like hers did.” Grantaire gulped down some of his coffee that had cooled down now.

“I’m sorry.” Enjolras looked down. “So, what happened with your other attempts to quit and get better?”

“Well, the first time I tried was when I started uni, I thought it could be a new start. That didn’t work because everyone around me was going to parties, and all the stress and it just wasn’t working. Then when I dropped out Eponine tried. She did okay, but then just, I don’t know. She thinks I’ve stopped the, um.” Enjolras nodded to show he understood what he was referencing. “But I just don’t have the heart to tell her.”

“What went wrong that time?”

“She was having her own problems, I felt bad talking to her about my issues when she needed someone for her to talk to.”

“Okay.”

They sat in silence whilst each finished their coffees. Grantaire thought about how this attempt could go, and for the first time since last night, he felt hopeful.

“Shall we go back to mine? I can plan easier there.” Enjolras asked.

“Sure.” Grantaire stood and smiled at the other. He really hoped it could work.


	3. You Distract Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conversation continues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i keep getting ideas for this fic and i'm worried it's going to drag on for so long, but anyway, the next chapter

They walked back to Enjolras’ shared apartment making casual conversation about what the group had planned, what art Grantaire doing, work Enjolras had to complete. It was a welcome distraction from the topic on both their minds.

The weather was better than last night, the sun was shining and there weren’t many clouds to block it out, but it was still mid-winter and cold as ever. Most people were off the street now as well, all back into their workplaces or schools.

It was a long walk, but it took them through areas that Grantaire loved, areas so different to where he lived himself. They were painted nicely and had well looked after for plants in pretty boxes. Grantaire loved Enjolras’ neighbourhood.

He also loved the apartment Enjolras and Combeferre shared. It wasn’t big, but there was just enough space for the entire group to fit in. The main spaces were bright and pastel and mostly tidy. There were papers scattered around but it was expected from university students. Grantaire’s favourite part was the canvas he had painted for the two as a Christmas present (he’d done paintings for everyone) that sat on the front wall above the small television. It made him and his work feel appreciated which wasn’t an often occurrence.

“Would you like a drink?” Enjolras asked as he let them both in. “Non-alcoholic of course.” He added quickly. Grantaire laughed.

“Thanks. Tea?”

“Sure, make yourself comfortable, I’ll be back in a minute.” And with that he went into the kitchen.

Grantaire took his shoes off at the door and pulled his jacket off as he made his way to the sofa. He plopped himself down on one side and looked around the familiar room at the various new items on display. He saw a photo frame on the side table so picked it up; there was a picture from the Christmas party with everyone in it: Enjolras at the centre laughing with a paper crown being engulfed by his hair, Combeferre and Courfeyrac next to him equally as happy, Jehan smiled whilst holding a flower in his mouth, Eponine and Cosette were pulling funny faces whilst Marius pouted, Musichetta had both her boys on either side of her kissing her cheeks, Bahorel was flexing his biceps as Feuilly laughed and held on to it and finally Grantaire saw himself in front of those two, looking away from the camera and swearing but still smiling happily.

“It was fun.” Grantaire jumped slightly at the voice.

“It was. I enjoyed it.” He put the photo back and accepted the cup Enjolras was offering him.

“I’m still finding glitter everywhere though after Courf’s glitter bombs.” Enjolras chuckled.

“They were funny, but a pain. And Jehan had a poem for each of us.”

“They were wonderful. I enjoyed the one for you.”

“Ha, yeah.” Grantaire remembered the jokes and kind words placed throughout. He had a copy of it on his wall in his bedroom.

They sat talking about their friends and what they’ve all done together. It seemed as if both were putting off what they had come to talk about, but Grantaire would rather spend an eternity here with Enjolras talking like this, than spend a second talking about his issues.

Once they finished laughing about the time they convinced Marius he had missed the weekend, Enjolras stood and walked into his bedroom coming back with a notepad with black and white patterns across the cover. He tore a few pages from the front with some notes on them and grabbed a pen from the coffee table. Finally he turned to Grantaire.

“Okay, so, I want to plan this with you.” Enjolras spoke in his serious tone again. Grantaire accepted his fate and nodded to him. “First things first, you need to talk about things. You need let it out. But I realise that talking is hard, so, writing.” He wrote down in the notebook what he saying. “Even when you write stuff, you should probably also talk about what you’ve been writing. Now, you can talk to me or you can speak to the others.”

“I’ll probably talk to you? Maybe Ep or Bahorel depending on my mood and what the issue is, but you’re the one at the moment that knows the problem fully-ish.”

“Okay, that’s fine, you have my number and obviously you know where I live. Next, the drinking. Do you want to quit completely?”

“I mean, I’d like to I guess.”

“Okay, well, I think we should ease you off it. Give you daily limits that gradually decrease until there’s nothing.”

“That might work better than the other times. But it may also be harder because I have a tendency to just keep going no matter what.”

“Well, how much do you drink a day on average at the moment?” This question struck Grantaire with worry. He looked into his cup of tea in his hands.

“I think the most I’ve drank in a day recently is nearly three bottles.” He looked back to Enjolras, embarrassment on his face expecting Enjolras to be disgusted, however he instead looked concerned.

“What’s the least you’ve had over the last week?”

“Probably a bottle and a half.”

“Do you notice any habits with your drinking? Like do you tend to drink more when you know certain things are coming up.”

“Days we have meetings I guess. Seeing everyone and just-“

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain.” Enjolras offered him a smile before noting something down in the book.

“I do like the meetings though.” He didn’t want Enjolras to think he didn’t want to be there, because he did. It was a distraction from most of his mind, being able to watch his friends have fun, and to watch Enjolras. He liked the meetings. Enjolras smiled at him.

“I get it.” He cleared his throat. “Final thing. The uh, self-harm. I assume it’s cutting?” Enjolras seemed afraid to talk about this issue. Grantaire nodded at his question. “I think it’s best if we get rid of what it is you use. If it’s not there, a lot of the temptation can disappear. Also finding a replacement activity.”

“Most likely art.”

“Yeah. Distract yourself, maybe talk to someone to get your mind off it as best you can.”

Grantaire was staring at his covered arms, imagining the scarred arms he knew so well that hid underneath the black sleeves.

“I have a lecture tomorrow morning. Maybe I can come to yours after and help you sort things out?” Grantaire nodded at the suggestion.

“Won’t everyone wonder why you’re suddenly spending time with me? And why we’re talking more?”

“They don’t matter. What matters is you getting help and I’m here to give it to you.” Grantaire turned his head up to him and they exchanged smiles. Enjolras wrote one more thing in the book before handing it to Grantaire.

“Another tea?” Enjolras asked as he picked up both the now empty cups.

“Yeah.”

Grantaire stayed until Combeferre came home at 5. Combeferre was surprised to see the two men sat on the sofa talking and watching music channels on the television.

That evening, Grantaire walked home thinking about what he had done today. He had the notebook in his hand with the plan for his recovery. His recovery. It excited him but struck fear in the man, what if he let Enjolras down?

But Enjolras believed in him, and he believed in Enjolras.


	4. But I'm Distracted Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire is alone once again

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER  
> self harm and harsh topics (the next two are nicer)

Grantaire entered his dark apartment, it was cold and silent. He sighed into the emptiness and stripped himself of his jacket before making his way to the small kitchen.

The light that came from his now open fridge was dim, barely lighting the scarce items it held inside: two bottles of wine, milk, jam and butter. He stared at the wine and looked to where he had placed the notebook on the counter beside him.

“No.” He told himself slamming the door shut.

So he looked through his cupboards in hopes of finding some dinner. All he found were tins of baked beans, a few Pot Noodles and a Cup A Soup. There was also bottles of beer. Once again he looked to the notebook before closing the door of the cupboard.

He grabbed the book and left to the living room. He curled himself up and opened it, Enjolras’ cursive handwriting greeting him. He read the words over and over, he needed to remember them, he needed to be strong.

But he wasn’t strong. He knows he isn’t a strong man mentally. He’s a fuck up, it’s what he does. Why would this time be any different?

“Shut up!” He shouted into the lonely apartment. He threw the book to the other end of the sofa then ran a hand through his hair. His thoughts were already betraying him, he was a fool to think they would stop. He was a fool for beginning another attempt to come clean.

He turned to the kitchen, to where he knew he had what he wanted. Then he turned to his room. He bit his lip and stood up. Taking a deep breath, he walked into his bedroom.

It was a mess of clothes and art supplies. On his drawers he saw his large sketchpad, he grabbed it and looked for his pencils. He took a seat at the end of his bed directly under the light in his room.

He started sketching people, trying to make them all different but they eventually all turned into Enjolras. Enjolras leading the group. Enjolras arguing. Enjolras laughing. Enjolras.

Grantaire threw himself back on to his bed. His mind was obsessed with thoughts of Enjolras; Enjolras who was helping him get better, Enjolras who was being nice to him. Enjolras was trying so hard. Too hard. He was going to be disappointed.

What would Enjolras do if he failed? What will Enjolras do when he fails?

Grantaire couldn’t stop the negativity, couldn’t stop the bad thoughts. They came so naturally to him, they were apart of him at this point.

“I’m going to fail. Whether it’s today or tomorrow or in a month. I am going to fail.” He sat up.“ And Enjolras is going to be angry. He’s wasting his time on me.” Grantaire put his head in his hands, his mind shouting abuse at his worthless self.

He only knew one way to stop them.

He stood with haste and looked around. He walked through into the living room where he saw the notebook laying on the sofa where he had thrown it. He clenched his fists and carried on his way to the kitchen.

“Drink and it proves you’re a failure.” He opened the fridge. “Drink and forget.” He grabbed a bottle. “Drink and it doesn’t matter anymore.”

He took a long swig, hating the familiar taste as it swirled around his mouth before slipping down his throat. As he brought the bottle down from his lips he sighed in defeat.

Half an hour later the bottle was empty and Grantaire was lay on his sofa, notebook and pen in hand. He didn’t know exactly what he was writing, but he knew it was an apology of some sort. He thought it was addressed to Enjolras yet parts seemed to read as if they were to Grantaire, as if trying to convince himself.

He put the book and pen down then wiped his eyes. He was angry now. He’d already fucked up. He couldn’t even get past day one. He was a disgrace, no wonder his grandmother didn’t want him back, no wonder his friends hated him, no wonder his mum died.

He stood with his head in his hands and screamed before picking up the empty bottle and throwing it at the wall. It smashed into hundreds of dark green pieces that scattered across the floor, a few small droplets of red splattered where the glass impacted.

Grantaire stared at this. Then walked into the kitchen and grabbed the four beers from the cupboard before walking back to the living room and placing them on his coffee table. He held one in his hand, taking a moment to feel the weight before launching it at the same wall as the wine bottle.

He watched as it basically exploded against his wall. The liquid contents spilling everywhere and the brown glass mixing with the green.

As he threw the next bottle he shouted, the fact he has neighbours completely slipping his mind. This bottle had a bigger blast zone, shards coming closer to Grantaire’s position by the sofa. He watched as they skidded towards him on the dark laminate flooring.

He looked from the two remaining bottles to the wall. He grabbed a bottle but didn’t throw it, just looked at it.

“What am I doing?” He quietly asked himself. Then he dropped the bottle, it smashed at his bare feet but he didn’t take notice and instead made his way to the bathroom.

He stared at his reflection in the dirty mirror that hung above his grotty sink. His face seemed as if it were sagging, he had dark bags under his eyes and his facial hair was starting to look a mess (not that it ever looked well-kept). He ran a hand through his hair and took his hoodie off.

It took a moment before he directed his gaze towards his arms. He shakily took in a breath.

Lines criss-crossed across his forearm, some long, some short, some deeper than others. The one that always caught his eye was the largest one; it started from halfway up his forearm and went to his wrist, his only downward cut, his suicide attempt.

It had happened a month before he arrived at university. He wasn’t ready, he couldn’t cope, he didn’t know what would happen. His grandmother had found him in his room only moments after he made the cut. She was angry.

He hadn’t told Enjolras this because the only other person that knew was Eponine. He didn’t tell Enjolras because he didn’t know what reaction he’d get. He didn’t want pity off the other man. He’s not sure if he wanted anything off him anymore.

He looked away from his arm and back in the mirror. Quickly, he went into his room to find his phone. He typed a message to Enjolras but didn’t send it straight away, just read over it. He didn’t know if he should.

‘e im nit sure if this s a good idea,’

His mind was still hazy from the alcohol, from the thoughts and his vision was blurred from tears he didn’t even realise were forming.

He threw the phone on the bed, choosing not to send the message. If he was going to let Enjolras down, it would be in person.

Back in the bathroom, Grantaire opened the cupboard under the sink. He moved the bottles out of the way to reach the basket in the back. He emptied the contents into the sink, nothing small enough to fall down the drain.

“You’re a piece of shit R.” He muttered under his breath. “Worthless.”

He picked up a razor.

“A fuck up.”

Brought it to his skin.

“Pathetic.”

Impact.

“I’m sorry.”


	5. I Wouldn't Mind A Little Comforting From You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras comes over and Grantaire accepts help

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is cutesy but shit man, the next chapter is SUPER fluff  
> (also i'd appreciate feedback if anyone has any??)

The first thought Grantaire had when he woke up was ‘Where am I?’

The second was ‘shit’.

Someone was knocking on his door, more like pounding on his door.

Enjolras…

Grantaire jumped up, he was in the empty bath. He quickly looked around remembering his night. Tears filled his eyes, he didn’t want to go to that door, see the anger in Enjolras’ eyes, see the disgust. But the knocking continued.

He gained some courage and walked to his door before taking a deep breath and opening it slightly.

Enjolras looked distressed, looked ready to shout. That was until he actually saw Grantaire. Grantaire looked as if he was ready to cry, he looked tired, he looked hurt. Then he noticed the uncovered arm by his side.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras felt ready to cry himself at the sight.

“Sorry.” Grantaire whispered.

“No.” Enjolras stepped in and brought the other into a tight embrace. “No, no, no, no.” He repeated softly in his ear.

Grantaire let himself cry, head rested on the other’s shoulder.

“You don’t have to apologise. It’s okay R.” Enjolras closed the door with his foot and just held Grantaire. His eyes scanned the room, falling upon the broken bottles at the wall. “It’s okay.” He finally whispered into his hair.

Enjolras waited for Grantaire to pull away first, he eventually did after 15 minutes.

“I’m not sure if I can do this.” He sniffled.

“Of course you can Grantaire. You’re going to have bad nights and days, but you’ll make it.” Enjolras lay a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s clean you up.”

Grantaire looked at his arms, covered in dry blood and new cuts. He felt disgusting.

Enjolras lead them to the kitchen and to the sink where he filled the bowl with warm water. Carefully, he held one of Grantaire’s arms as he poured water over the injured areas. He looked for a sponge or cloth but only found a tea towel so he grabbed it, put a small amount of soap on it and ever so delicately wiped Grantaire’s arms, muttering apologies as he did so.

Grantaire winced but accepted the care. He’d never had someone do this for him, it was new and although he hated the circumstances, it felt nice to be looked after. He didn’t stare at his arms, but instead at the man taking his time to look after him.

When Enjolras finished, he turned to Grantaire whose face looked emotionless, but somewhere in his eyes he saw something, he couldn’t place the emotion but he wanted to see it in its full glory.

“Now what?” Grantaire spoke, pulling his arms back to his side.

“How are you feeling? We should get you some water, food? Paracetamol?”

“Um, yeah. I have a bit of a headache, and I don’t really know if I ate anything yesterday?”

“Okay, well, I’m not a good cook.” Enjolras looked around the kitchen, “But, I can make toast?” He offered a smile at the end of his suggestion.

“Anything sounds good to be honest.” Grantaire returned the smile.

With that Enjolras started the simple task of putting the bread in the toaster and taking the butter out of the fridge. They stood in silence for the two minutes, both watching the toaster, both deep in their own thoughts.

“I’m gonna go clean up that glass, okay?” Enjolras said as he handed Grantaire the plate of buttered toast. He received a nod in return.

As Enjolras left, Grantaire started thinking. When Enjolras had said he’d help him, he hadn’t expected him to be like this, he was so kind and opposite to how he usually interreacted with him at meetings.

Enjolras had never been mean, per say, but hadn’t ever been considerate towards him, had never showed him such care as he had today. Grantaire couldn’t believe his crush could grow larger but alas, it had.

He finished his toast and walked out to where Enjolras was carefully handling glass shards.

“I’m, um, going to get changed.” He didn’t feel confident in his words as he spoke them.

Enjolras looked up, surprised, and nodded.

Grantaire entered his room, the same mess greeted him. He searched through clothes he believed to be clean enough. He stripped out of his clothes and put on a dark green hoodie and a different pair of black jeans, then sat on his bed staring at the sketchpad he had left open from the night before.

A knock on the closed bedroom door interrupted him.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras once again seemed unsure of himself. “I was thinking, maybe you should come to mine? Stay the night? It’s, er, it’s not that I don’t trust you on your own, I just want, want to make sure-“

“That’d be fine.” Grantaire stopped him as he opened the door. Enjolras may ‘trust’ him to be on his own but Grantaire didn’t trust himself. After last night, he didn’t want to be alone.

“You can have my room-“

“No, I can’t just-“

“Grantaire, you look like you haven’t slept properly in so long. Take my bed for at least one night.” Grantaire sighed, Enjolras was right, as always.

“What do we tell Ferre?” Grantaire was still worried about telling everyone.

“Whatever you like. Do you want to grab things to bring and I’ll finish off the glass?”

“Yeah, yeah.” He went to turn back around into his room but hesitated and instead looked to Enjolras. “Thank you.” And he walked further into is room, the smile on Enjolras’ face unseen by him.

He appeared from his room to see Enjolras on the sofa reading the notebook, wall and floor clean as if it had never happened. Grantaire stepped closer to where Enjolras was and noticed he was reading the mess of writing he had attempted to write in his drunken state.

He cleared his throat, getting Enjolras’ attention. The other looked up and stood then straight away came over to Grantaire. Suddenly he was pulled into another tight embrace, Grantaire couldn’t remember what he had written but obviously it struck something within Enjolras.

“Are you ready to go?” Enjolras asked after he let go of Grantaire who looked down to his backpack.

“I think so.”

Enjolras put the notebook into his satchel at the door. Grantaire took a look around his apartment, his eyes falling on the slightly ajar door to the bathroom. He thought of the night, what he did. He felt a hand grasp his upper arm, pulling his thoughts away from where they were going.

“We can sort that out another time.” Enjolras practically whispered to him. This was a side Grantaire didn’t even know Enjolras had. He’d seen him polite and nice and happy with the others, but never so gentle and caring. It was very comforting to him.

So Grantaire put his jacket and shoes on and together they left his apartment, neither mentioning the fact Enjolras still held on to Grantaire’s arm.


	6. Why Do I Let You In My Head?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They return to Enjolras' apartment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just so fluffy you know, i just wanted some niceness, also i've made a plan of the upcoming chpater (there's quite a lot, oops)

They arrived at the apartment where Combeferre was sat in the kitchen at the tiny table, papers spread across it all.

“Welcome home.” He looked up. “Oh, hello R.”

Grantaire waved, feeling awkward. How was Enjolras going to explain why Grantaire was at their apartment for the second day in a row? And how would he explain him staying over?

“Is it alright if we sit and watch films?” Enjolras asked his roommate.

“Uh, yeah, this work isn’t that important yet.” He replied looking through pages of notes.

“Cool.” And Enjolras was off to the living room, Grantaire following like a lost puppy.

“So, what are we doing?” Grantaire sat down and pulled his sleeves over his hands.

“I’m going to make tea. You’re going to pick a film.” Enjolras passed him the remote and went into the kitchen. Grantaire overheard him asking Combeferre if he would also like a drink. So Grantaire turned on the television and started looking through films. He decided a Disney film would calm him, but then it was the choice of which.

Enjolras returned as Grantaire was quickly looking through the large selection of animations.

“Disney.” Enjolras smiled.

“Help me pick.” Grantaire turned to him, a slight look of distress on his face.

“Um, not a princess one.” Enjolras was looking at the television at the list.

“The Aristocats?” Grantaire suggested. It was one of his favourites, the music was upbeat and made him happy, and he was secretly a cat person.

Enjolras accepted the film suggestion and left to retrieve his laptop so he could do some work. He returned with a blanket which he threw to Grantaire and then grabbed one from the armchair.

Grantaire smiled and curled himself into a ball wrapped in the blanket as pressed play on the film. He felt at ease, he was warm, he wasn’t alone and he had a comforting film on.

Each man often spared a glance to the other but never caught the other’s eyes. Grantaire was thinking a lot during the film, but not his usual ideas.

His mind was being nice, it was starting to believe he could follow through with the plan. He believed he would be able to try and succeed. He thought about Enjolras, that maybe if he got better he could have a shot with him.

He lost focus on his thoughts as Thomas O’Malley entered the shot. Grantaire started smiling, something Enjolras noticed. Something Enjolras realised he wanted to see more of.

Enjolras had known from when he first met Grantaire that he had problems, everyone knew he had a drinking problem, but Enjolras had suspected more. The meeting only two days ago had revealed more than he expected, but he had always wanted to know more about him.

Now Enjolras was staring and he felt awkward, so he continued with the essay he had to write.

“It’s Thursday.” Grantaire suddenly announced.

“Uh-huh.” Enjolras was puzzled, until, “Oh God yeah.”

There was another meeting tonight, it had completely slipped Enjolras’ mind, he was too focused on Grantaire. Luckily, his plans for meeting were completed at least a week in advance and he had Combeferre to help him lead.

“What time is it now?” Enjolras muttered to himself checking his watch. “One. Okay, that’s fine. Do you want to stay here during the meeting or-“

“I want to go.” Grantaire cut in. Enjolras nodded and they both settled back into what they were doing.

As the film progressed, Grantaire’s thoughts went to Enjolras again. He imagined doing this with him, watching films, but closer and cuddled up. He imagined laying across Enjolras’ lap, a hand in his hair. He started to drift off to these ideas when Combeferre walked in.

“Can I join?” He asked from the doorway.

“Sure.” Enjolras replied and scooted closer to Grantaire, their shoulders barely brushing each other.

In closer proximity, Grantaire’s mind carried on with his thoughts however he didn’t want them anymore. His tiredness also carried on and his eyes slowly drifted shut, every now and then reopening as he tried to stay awake.

Enjolras noticed the slight sway of Grantaire who was inching closer in his tired state. Eventually, they were touching, Grantaire’s head falling to Enjolras’ shoulder, hair brushing his neck. Enjolras took a deep breath as his eyes darted to Combeferre who was engrossed with the film.

Enjolras lost concentration in his essay and the film, too distracted by the warm body of the man leaning against him sleeping soundly.

“Is he asleep?” Combeferre finally noticed.

“Yeah.”

“Can I have your cover then? You share his?” Enjolras was partially confused at this suggestion as Grantaire was still mostly wrapped in the blanket, yet he accepted anyway.

As Combeferre wrapped himself up in Enjolras’ warm blanket, Enjolras carefully tugged on the blanket wrapped around the sleeping body. He only disturbed him slightly, his head popping up for a second before taking its place back on Enjolras.

The film ended shortly after so Enjolras passed the remote to Combeferre who put on a documentary he had recorded.

This started to make Enjolras drowsy, the calm voice explaining the wildlife, the soft music occasionally playing in the background, creatures jumping around on screen. He started to slip down the sofa a bit putting his head even closer to Grantaire until they were both leaning on one another, both asleep.

Combeferre chuckled to himself and once his programme finished, he stood and departed to his room.

An hour later, Grantaire awoke. He was confused, not recognising his surroundings at first and confused by the figure asleep with him. Then he remembered. However, he was confused as to when they started sharing a blanket, when they became so close and when Enjolras fell asleep.

As he continued to think, in mostly the same position with Enjolras, he heard a door open and saw Combeferre look into the living room. He received a smile off him before he carried on into the kitchen. Grantaire wasn’t sure whether he should move and whether he wanted to move.

He looked to Combeferre once again who mouthed to him that he had an hour until they would be getting ready for the meeting. When he left again, Grantaire was unsure what to do but eventually decided to take advantage of his position and lay his head back down to rest again.

Enjolras was next to wake. Combeferre was nudging his shoulder gently. He moved his head to look at him whilst trying to understand his surroundings. He could feel the weight of another person against him, then he remembered, Grantaire.

“It’s six, so you two should wake up and get ready.” Combeferre gently suggested to him to which he nodded. With that, Combeferre sauntered out of the room.

Enjolras sighed and carefully moved away, Grantaire groaning slightly at the movement. He took a moment to stare at the sleeping man, he looked so peaceful.

He stood and pulled the blanket with him producing another small sound from Grantaire. He smiled and stretched up. Finally he turned to Grantaire and shook his shoulder carefully whilst repeating his name softly.

Grantaire stirred, eyes opening slightly to see Enjolras. He had bed hair, all ruffled and stuck up in different direction; Grantaire thought he could get used to this Enjolras.

“Is it time for the meeting?” He yawned stretching his arms up. His hoodie sleeves rolled down revealing his arms and he gasped and hastily brought them back into his body. Enjolras gave him a sympathetic look and offered a hand to help him up. Grantaire took it.

“It’ll be okay, don’t worry. I’ll be right there.” Enjolras whispered to him as he rose from his position.

All three prepared for the meeting, Enjolras and Grantaire telling Combeferre that he was staying with them due to a problem with his apartment – Combeferre didn’t mind of course but also didn’t care much for their story, he wasn’t a fool, he knew something was happening but due to his polite nature, he didn’t need to pry.

Combeferre drove them to the meeting where Grantaire didn’t drink and sat closer to the front. He did however, still argue, but it was different. A good different.

Only Eponine mentioned the lack of wine in front of Grantaire at the end of the meeting, congratulating him on the effort. Everyone else had their usual jokes and conversation with everyone as they all wound down. Both Grantaire and Enjolras spared glances to one another as they made their rounds.

Enjolras finally appeared at Grantaire’s side, Combeferre in tow, ready to leave.

“You ready?” He muttered. Grantaire nodded and stood. He felt confident, ready to recover, ready to astound Enjolras and everyone.

Enjolras had really gotten to him, gotten in his head, in the best way.

He was sure he was over just a silly crush. He was full blown in love with Enjolras.


	7. I Gotta Go Sometimes But You're Always On My Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire opens up and shows his thanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this honestly is gonna go on for so long, but oh well, i'm enjoying it. also does anyone have any feedback???

On the way back they grabbed a takeaway and all sat in the living room happily eating together.

Grantaire tried to refuse sleeping in Enjolras’ bed but denying Enjolras had always been a problem for the man, so he ended up in the unbelievably comfortable bed. He found it hard to settle his mind, still worried about nightmares yet he had managed to successfully nap before with Enjolras.

Luckily, Grantaire did manage to sleep, surrounded by the smell of Enjolras. When he woke up, only Combeferre was in the apartment as he wondered out of the bedroom.

“He’s at a class. He’ll be back around noon.” Combeferre told him as he walked into the kitchen.

“Okay. Um, good morning.” Grantaire felt a bit awkward even though he knew Combeferre and considered him a friend.

“Morning. Would you like a drink? Breakfast?” Combeferre stood from his place at the table, a smile on his face.

“Oh, just a tea but I can make it myself?”

“It’s fine, take a seat.” Combeferre set to work with brewing up. “Did you enjoy your nap yesterday with Enjolras?” He chuckled.

“When did that even happen? How did we end up like, on each other?” Grantaire’s cheeks were turning a shade of red, just the thought of being close to Enjolras made his feelings go mad. Combeferre just laughed.

“You know that your feelings are reciprocated right?” It was Grantaire’s turn to laugh.

“No, he’s just help-“ Grantaire cut himself off, realising he was about to out his problems to Combeferre. He received a questioning look and decided he could trust the man in front of him.

“Enjolras is helping me get better. Not just from being an alcoholic but from, um, other stuff.” Combeferre nodded. “I don’t know why, but, it’s nice of him.” Grantaire sighed. “And completely fucking with my feelings.”

Combeferre sat, placing a cup of tea in front of both of them.

“I’m glad for you. Not the fucking with your feelings, but the recovery.” Grantaire smiled and looked down. “And maybe you won’t tell Enj about your feelings now, but trust me, you should because you’ll be surprised.”

After that, they sat until they finished their drinks, idly talking about what else was going on their lives. Grantaire realised that he should go back to his apartment soon, he had art to do and he couldn’t keep living off of Enjolras and Combeferre, no matter how much he loved it.

They retreated to the living room and watched a documentary about whales. Grantaire heard his stomach rumbling and got an idea.

“You said E is back at noon right?” He turned to Combeferre who seemed completely engrossed with the television. Grantaire received a nod. “I think I might make us lunch? If that’s okay?”

“I would accept, but I’m meeting Courf for lunch when Enj gets back, but I’m sure he’d be happy to come home to food.”

“Okay.”

“I’m not sure what we have in, but there should be acceptable food in to make something.”

So Grantaire got up and entered the kitchen. He checked the fridge and freezer and cupboards and decided from what he found that he could make spaghetti bolognaise. He took the spaghetti out of the overhead cupboard along with the jar of tomato sauce. From the fridge he pulled out a pepper and an onion.

He went to the sink and pulled his sleeves up to wash his hands, but he stopped as he looked to his arm. He took a moment to take a deep breath then carried on putting his hands under the warm stream of water.

He searched for a knife and once he had one in hand he chopped up the onion which unfortunately did make him cry, however he carried on to chop the pepper and fried them together. In another pan he started to boil water and once his vegetables were nearly cooked, he put the pasta in the water and the sauce in the frying pan.

As it was all coming together the door opened and he heard Enjolras shout a hello – to which Combeferre called back - then saw him come past the door. He looked at Grantaire quizzically then towards his bare arms for a second. Grantaire quickly went to cover them but Enjolras spoke before he could get his sleeves down.

“No, it’s fine, you don’t have to do that.” Grantaire faltered then decided to leave his sleeves at his elbows; Enjolras smiled at him.

“I, er, made lunch.” Grantaire felt a heat rising to his cheeks at his slight embarrassment of the situation.

“Thank God. I’m starving.” Enjolras stepped closer to have a better look at what Grantaire was now serving into two bowls.

They each took a bowl and walked into the living room where Combeferre was getting ready to leave.

“Oh, you’re meeting Courf today aren’t you?” Enjolras asked his roommate as him and Grantaire took a seat on the sofa.

“Yes, I’m leaving in a moment.” Combeferre grabbed his phone from the coffee table. “I’ll be back in two hours, possibly more, it’s Courf.”

“Have fun.” Grantaire mumbled as he forked some spaghetti into his mouth.

“You too. And Grantaire, you’re gonna make me some spaghetti next time.”

“Of course.” Grantaire laughed.

The two men were left alone to eat their food and watch the channel Combeferre had left on. Once finished Enjolras jumped into a conversation.

“On my way back, I was thinking about you and-“

“Aw, that’s cute.” Grantaire had returned to his usual playful self, this normally happened after he had some time to recover from his really bad nights. Enjolras turned a bright shade of red which made Grantaire smile.

“Not like, no. I-” He sighed. “How often do you do boxing?”

“Um, I try to go once a week, but lately I’ve gone a bit less.”

“I know you probably already use it as a stress reliever, but now that you’re hoping to drink less, you should try go more to try fight the urge.”

“Was that a pun?”

“What?”

“’Fight the urge’, boxing.”

“I’m serious R.” Grantaire realised this and nodded at the other.

“I know.” He finally responded. “And I’ll do it, I’ll do whatever you ask of me.” Enjolras gave him a quizzical look before smiling at him.

“I really believe you can do this R.”

“We can do this, you’re the one that’s behind me for this, right?”

“Always.”

They shared a smile then settled into the sofa as they put a new film on the television.

Grantaire was going to do this not just for himself, but for Enjolras.


	8. I Lost Sleep Just Thinking Of You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A nightmare and many drawings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmao, this chapter is a piece of crap, sorry

When Combeferre returned, he graciously gave them a ride to Grantaire’s apartment and told Enjolras he’d pick him up in half an hour.

 

Together they emptied the home of anything Grantaire used to self-harm, they tidied everywhere a bit in hopes that an uncluttered space will help his mind unravel easily, and they discarded of the alcohol in Grantaire’s fridge.

 

Enjolras parted with a hug and then Grantaire was alone. He was going to do it right this time.

 

He played music loudly enough to be heard in any room of the apartment then took a shower (he’d be lying if he said his thoughts didn’t go to Enjolras during this time). He got redressed and found a piece of art he’d been working on for someone.

 

He hummed along to the songs and delicately painted the scene he had been asked to, however he was desperate to do his own work.

 

He got to an acceptable point with the painting and stopped, looking outside at the night. He knew he should sleep but even after being able to sleep well the night before, he was still uneasy about attempting to do so in his own bed alone and not drunk.

 

So he put it off for a while. He cleaned himself up, got some snacks and watched some television. He easily grew bored of what was on. He could hear people on the street, obviously drunk and having a good time, he hated to admit that he was jealous.

 

Eventually he figured that he should at least try to sleep but he kept his music on to make sure he didn’t feel so alone in the dark of his room.

 

* * *

 

 

Grantaire was at Enjolras and Combeferre’s apartment, it was bright with the sun shining through the open windows.

 

He tried to move but found he was stuck in place in the corner of the living room so he just turned his head round to observe it all, nothing seemed out of the ordinary except for the fact that no one else was here.

 

Suddenly he heard the door open and voices enter, more specifically, Enjolras and Combeferre.

 

“I just can’t believe it, you know.” He heard Combeferre’s voice, it was hushed and sounded almost emotional.

 

“I can, I can easily believe it,” Enjolras cut in, “he was pathetic.”

 

“Don’t say that.”

 

They came into sight, both wearing black clothes and damp from rain. Grantaire started to worry. He carried on watching.

 

“You can’t deny it Ferre. We tried, we all tried. He made progress then went back to his stupid self.”

 

“Look, I know he did turn back into a piece of shit, but he’s gone now, have a bit of respe-“

 

“Respect! He was a vile creature who ruined my group, who gawked at me, who was a pathetic excuse of an artist-“ Grantaire stopped listening, realising what was happening. He looked down at the ground.

 

“-I never got any respect off him, he does not deserve it.”

 

“He was a selfish drunkard, but-“

 

“But nothing, he’s dead now. He ended it how everyone thought he would, alone and drunk.”

 

Grantaire felt his breathing picking up, he felt cold and wanted to leave.

 

“Enjolras? Ferre?” He weakly attempted, but his voice was ignored.

 

“Now he’s finally gone, we can get rid of this piece of shit.” Enjolras had stood and made his way to the canvas Grantaire had painted.

 

“No.” Grantaire whispered to himself.

 

Enjolras grabbed the art from the wall and laughed at it before slamming it down to his knee, snapping the wooden frame and puncturing the material. He carried on ripping through it. This caused a pain in Grantaire’s chest, as if the destruction of his work was destroying him inside.

 

He felt tears on his cheeks as he watched the joy in Enjolras’ face, and even a hint of a smile from the other man.

 

Then both were laughing, in hysterics and shouting insults to the apparently dead Grantaire who was there but invisible to them kneeling at this point, tears streaming and breathing heavily.

 

“I’m glad he’s dead!”

 

* * *

 

 

Grantaire woke up sweating and heavily breathing. It was still dark and he could faintly hear his music over his laboured breathing.

 

He got out of bed and went to the bathroom. He stared at himself in the mirror, he looked a mess. He closed his eyes and tried to calm his breathing then started the cold water running before splashing some not so elegantly on to his face.

 

He dried it off and walked into his bedroom to find his phone. He checked the time and decided that even though it was 3am, he should stay awake and do some art.

 

So he started to draw. To his dismay, everything he drew turned into Enjolras, it made him angry.

 

It was only a dream, only his own thoughts in his head, but what he had heard Enjolras say really hurt. He was going to try to recover for Enjolras, but to think how it could end up, how Enjolras could feel, how he probably already feels…

 

Grantaire stopped himself. He knew Enjolras must care somewhere deep down, he was helping him, he was caring for him.

 

Now he felt bad for being angry with Enjolras. He didn’t know why his emotions were so all over the place at the moment but he hated it. Hated himself.

 

He kept drawing which eventually lead to painting.

 

His motions were fast, brush hitting the canvas with force and being dragged along with an urgency before being moved to another space and the action repeated.

 

Grantaire watched carefully as his work came to life; the figure stood tall, demanding power and attention, golden hair fell elegantly around his face whilst bright reds drew attention to his lithe body. His eyes were painted a vivid blue whilst his red wine lips contrasted the pale skin.

 

He stared at it, stared at the Enjolras he had painted. It didn’t show the true beauty of the man, Grantaire was disappointed.

 

So he started again. A smaller canvas this time and only a mid-shot of the man to allow more detail to be embossed across his face.

 

Once he had finished this one, he stepped back to check his work and once again it was missing something distinctly Enjolras.

 

This time he used pages from his large art pad and started sketching a new figure and a new face and another and another.

 

This was how he spent the rest of the night, how he spent the sunrise and how he spent his day. His mind surrounded with the image of Enjolras, his hands relaying the images into drawings.

 

None of it was ever perfect, nothing could reach the standard of the real Enjolras.


	9. You Got Me At A Complete Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Friends are important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i amd SO SO SO sorry for how long this took, like, idek, i'm just not inspired for some reason, like, i have the idea i just cant make myself sit and write. sorry, i'll try harder.

Grantaire had spent the entire day completely invested in his art and was only drawn out of his trance from the realisation his music had stopped.

 

He had done this before, but it hadn’t been as intense as this. He’d spent days on art pieces for others but had never been engulfed by art fuelled of his own desires.

 

It was once again dark outside but this time Grantaire could hear the dull pattering of rain hitting the windows alongside more drunk people enjoying the beginning of the Saturday evening.

 

He cleaned up the art he’d done, putting his paints and brushes away and trying to figure out what to do with all the drawings of Enjolras. Sighing, he put them into a pile and left them on the inside of a sketch book.

 

Normally, he’d have a drink now and pass out from tiredness and intoxication but alas, there was no alcohol in his apartment. Instead, he put his phone on charge and jumped in the shower to attempt to wash off the splatters of paint and smears of charcoal from his body.

 

He entered his bedroom, and looked around. It was messy, he doesn’t remember when he had last had a fully clean apartment. There were times when areas were mostly tidy, but his room had always been a disaster.

 

He threw on some clothes and decided he should clean up now. He piled up his clothes before heading to his neglected washing machine. Once he had set that up, he returned to clear out the rubbish he had scattered all over his floor.

 

As he was picking up some wrappers, his phone chimed.

 

‘You still free for tomorrow?? Chetta is making a roast this time’

 

Joly.

 

Most Sundays he went to see Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta and most of the time she made something wonderful to eat.

 

He quickly replied telling them he could go. He was glad he would be able to leave his apartment and being able to see his friends was a bonus.

 

Unsurprisingly, Grantaire came across empty and half full bottles of wine. He stopped, just staring at the alcohol in front of him. He thought of keeping them, thought of drinking them now. Then he thought of Enjolras; the man he’d spent a full day drawing, the man trying to help him recover, the man he was in love with.

 

He sighed and stood up going to his phone.

 

“Grantaire? Are you okay?” Enjolras answered the call after only a few rings.

 

“I’m, um fine I guess. I just, er…” Grantaire didn’t know what to say.

 

“Do you need me to come over or anything?”

 

“No, I was just going to tell that I, er, I found more alcohol. In my room.” There was a pause from both men.

 

“How much?”

 

“Oh, er, there’s probably three bottles with stuff in. But, um, but none are full. There might be, like, one full bottle between all of them together, you know.” Grantaire wanted to punch himself for how awkward he was making himself sound.

 

“What do you want to do with it?”

 

“I, er, do you really want to know the answer to that?”

 

“If you don’t trust yourself with it, then discard of it.”

 

“Where?”

 

“Down the drain is probably easiest.”

 

“Okay, and, um, tomorrow I’m going to see Joly, Bossuet and Chetta and they will probably offer me a drink, so what should I, um, what do I say?”

 

“Say whatever you like. If you want to accept you should also realise that you can’t take it too far because we don’t want to hinder progress.”

 

“Yeah, yeah okay. Thank E.”

 

“Anytime. Good night Grantaire.”

 

“Sleep well Apollo.” And with that they hung up.

 

Grantaire just stood for a moment looking at his phone as the screen faded before turning black.

 

He sighed as he walked open to the bottles before taking them into the bathroom. He watched as the liquid swirled down the drain, craving for it to instead be going down his throat. But he stayed strong. He could do this.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day Grantaire awoke on the couch, a blanket around his shoulders and the television playing a morning cookery show.

 

He looked at the digital clock in the corner of the screen – 10:45am.

 

He sighed and stood, stretching his arms above his head and letting out a groan as his back cracked in multiple places. He wandered into his now clean room, still amazed at the sight of it, and picked up his phone.

 

‘Hey R, come to ours whenever, we’re all up now.’ Read a text from Bossuet.

 

He quickly sent a reply telling them he’d be round in an hour or so then set to work tidying himself up.

 

His laundry had been finished overnight so he picked out some clean clothes and as he pulled the t-shirt over his head, he smelt the freshness and he smiled. He picked up the hoodie and brought it to his face, taking in the clean smell of the item. He had forgotten how nice his own clothes could smell.

 

His walk was calming, the sun was out again and a gentle breeze rippled through his hair. He felt his cheeks redden at the cool temperate and his hands kept themselves buried in his pockets.

 

“Grantaire!” Joly exclaimed as he flung the front door open.

 

“About time.” Grantaire heard a muffled voice from what he presumed was the kitchen as he entered. As he hung his coat up he turned to see the two other house members, both looking positively splendid.

 

“My third most favourite boy.” He was pulled into a hug by Musichetta which he accepted gleefully.

 

“Who’s your favourite at the moment then?” Grantaire asked when released. Musichetta winked and tapped her nose before pulling him into the kitchen with the other two in tow.

 

He helped them cut up vegetables and prepare food and reach items down from the top shelves all whilst enjoying conversation with them all.

 

“Is it time to bring out some wine then?” Joly asked after washing his hands once again. Grantaire froze before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth.

 

“Um, not for… no thanks, I’m good.” He received quizzical looks from all three. He sighed. “I’m getting clean. For real. I-“

 

“Oh Grantaire! I’m so proud!” Once again he was pulled into an embrace by Musichetta to which Joly and Bossuet joined so all three were hugging in the middle of the kitchen.

 

“Yeah, it’s about time, you know. And, um, someone is giving me help.” He took a deep breath. “Enjolras is helping me.”

 

“Enjolras?” Bossuet looked shocked.

 

“Um, yeah, he, er, he’s helping.”

 

“We’re here to help as well R, you are always welcome with us.”

 

“How much help is he giving you then?” Joly asked.

 

“Well, he gave me a plan and he told me to talk to him or anyone. We got rid of everything in my apartment.”

 

“How has it gone so far?”

 

“Well, um, iffy. I have urges you know. E said we could ease me off it but I just sort of wanted to be rid.”

 

“That must be hard.” Musichetta looked like she was planning in her head. “Being physically alone at your apartment isn’t a good way to start. Not that I don’t believe in you R, because you know I’m your biggest fan, but I want you to succeed.”

 

“What are you saying?”

 

“We have a spare room as you know.” She had a smile on her face and from the expressions on the other’s faces, they knew what was coming. “We will gladly have you stay with us. Then we can keep an eye on you because you have a tendency to get quiet, so we can make sure you talk and feel happy. And it solves the problem of when we miss you, you’ll be right there. You can join in our cuddles.”

 

“I… really?” Grantaire didn’t know how to react. Living with the trio would mean he isn’t alone and he would be away from his dingy apartment. He could also get attention when he wants it, he could talk about his issues with drinking but also his crush. Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta had been the best in helping him with Enjolras, they were, as Bossuet likes to call them, ‘love experts’.

 

“Please say yes.” Bossuet said.

 

“Yes. Yes, okay.”

 

Another hug ensued before they dished out food and sat down at the table to sort out roommate agreements. Grantaire had a positive outlook for the rest of the day and on his way back to his (soon not to be his) apartment, he rang Enjolras.

 

“I’m moving in with Joly, Chetta and Bossuet.”

 

“What?”

 

“I told them I’m not drinking and they offered me to move in with them so they can help me as well.” Grantaire couldn’t stop smiling.

 

“That’s great. That’s really useful.” He went silent for a moment. “I guess I should have thought about you staying in your apartment alone during-“

 

“No, Enj, it’s fine. I didn’t really think about it. Like, I knew I hated the apartment and all, but it was only when Chetta said about it that actually it makes sense.”

 

“I’m glad you’re really sticking to this.”

 

“Also, I didn’t drink anything tonight, even when they had glasses.” It was easy to hear the pride in Grantaire’s voice, it made Enjolras smile.

 

“I’m proud R, you’re doing well.”

 

“I’m trying.”

 

“I know.” He took a moment. “I know.”


	10. I Don't Know How To Focus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fight the urges.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a small chapter but i got big things coming and hopefully i'll be able to write and update soon. also bahorel !!

Grantaire had successfully made it home and slept through the night.

He woke up with the sun, beams of light coming through the gaps in the curtains and as he looked out he saw the pink and blue mixed together in the sky creating a stunning sunrise.

His mind started thinking how much nicer it would be to enjoy this sight with a glass of wine.

Grantaire groaned and clenched his fists. Despite the beauty of the morning, it wasn’t going well. Drinking urges were taking over his sober body, urges he wishes he could deny.

Urges he will deny, because he is strong and he is going to get better.

He took a deep breath and walked to his kitchen. There was a lack of food but the bread he had was still edible. So he put a slice in the toaster and found some paper to write a list of items he should get. His hand lazily scrawled the basics but then started to form the word ‘wine’.

He threw the pen in disgust.

Why was his mind doing this to him today?

His toast popped up so he busied himself with buttering it and finding a clean plate. He took it to his room where he looked through his clean pile of clothes.

Once dressed and fed, he took the plate back to the kitchen and looked upon his list again. His eyes settled on the bottom item, his mind repeating the word in his head. He bit his lip.

He returned to his room to find his phone.

“Enjolras?”

“Grantaire? It’s only nine in the morning.”

“Really?” Despite rising with the sun, he still didn’t believe he had awoken so early.

“Yes. Are you okay?”

“Oh, um, I have urges today.”

“What type?”

“Wine. Alcohol.”

“Hmm.” There was a pause. “I have lectures today. What about Bahorel? Boxing?”

“Oh yeah. Yeah, good idea.”

“You can keep strong R, you can do it.”

“Thanks Apollo.”

“Text me how things go, if you need me after my lectures you can come over or I’ll come to you if you’d prefer.”

“I’ll see how it goes, but thanks.”

“Anytime.”

“Have fun at your lectures.” Enjolras chuckled at this on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, of course. See you later.”

“Bye.”

Once the phone line went dead, Grantaire sighed and typed a message to Bahorel. He knew he would be awake but not ready to box. The reply he received told him to be at the gym in an hour.

He could deal with an hour. He could find something to keep his mind off drinking.

He couldn’t.

When he arrived at the gym, his entire body was tense and his lip was beginning to get sore from how much he’d been chewing it.

“Woah, are you okay R?”

“I just need to box.”

They warmed up together in mostly silence and as Grantaire was starting to put his gloves on Bahorel stopped him.

“Can you at least tell me something before we start. You look like shit.”

“I really need a drink,” he sighed, “but I’m quitting. I’ve quit.”

At this, Bahorel nodded and allowed him to finish putting his gloves on.

Grantaire loved this aspect of Bahorel. He knew he didn’t have to give full details of anything, he’d be quite happy with a brief explanation if that was all he was willing to give. He wasn’t pushy.

They took turns throwing punches at one another, the only words exchanged between them were those of either praise or criticism on one another’s hits.

“Take a break.” Bahorel finally told the other. Grantaire sighed as if he wasn’t ready to stop yet but obeyed and grabbed his water.

“Your mind seems elsewhere R. But unlike when you were drunk because your punches are more precise and harder but you, there’s no witty remarks or-“

“Enjolras.” Grantaire interrupted. “He’s helping me with the drinking which means we talk more and he comforts me and it’s so hard to be near him with him being so kind and good to me because I don’t deserve it.”

“Grantaire, buddy, you deserve so much.” Bahorel sat next to him and put his arm around him.

“It’s fucking with my feelings,” Grantaire looked away, “I love him.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to let him down, he’s putting so much work into this and I’m trying but then I woke up today and everything inside me is screaming for a drink.”

“Look, there will be days like this where all you want is to give in, that’s how it works. But the main thing is distracting yourself, is not giving in because you are strong R.”

“Am I though?”

“Keep throwing punches at me like those ones before and you’ll be stronger than me.” They both laughed at the statement.

“Thanks Bahorel.” Grantaire leaned further into his side to which the arm around his shoulder tightened its grip.

Grantaire also liked this side of Bahorel, the comforting and understanding Bahorel.

“Ready to box?” Bahorel asked after a reasonable amount of time.

“Ready to get your ass beat?” Grantaire smiled at him.

Grantaire was going to do this, he would get through this. Fight the urges.


	11. You're Not Helping Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grantaire broke and Enjolras is breaking too

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my poor son, i wish i wasn't writing him so sad but it WILL get better

A new day. A Tuesday. That meant there was a meeting. Unfortunately, this new day brought along old habits once again.

 

Grantaire didn’t sleep much, his first attempt failed when a nightmare scared him awake and his second attempt ended in a similar way along with his third and fourth. It already wasn’t going well.

 

He was tired. He was annoyed. He was tense. He needed a drink. Needed it. He didn’t care how strong he had to be or how strong everyone thought he was, because he wasn’t. He’s weak.

 

After boxing with Bahorel, a lot of his stress had gone but on his trip to shops to buy the food he needed it all returned relatively quickly. His feet had taken him down the alcohol isle, his hands had grabbed two bottles, his mind told him yes.

 

He hadn’t spoken to Enjolras since the morning. He had received two messages; one asking if he was okay and another to say goodnight. Grantaire couldn’t bare replying to him.

 

He hadn’t drank the wine when he got home that evening, instead just put it in its rightful place in the fridge.

 

It was still there, waiting for him. Waiting for the top to be removed followed by the liquid inside being drained into his body, the alcohol skewing his thoughts. Just the idea of what is going to happen makes him shiver.

 

The strength everyone said he had to complete this had disappeared. Nothing and no one was stopping him from the mistake he was about to follow through with, nothing could save him from who he was.

 

Grantaire made his way into the kitchen, the cold of the apartment giving him goosbumps. His hand made contact with the fridge door and carefully opened it to stare at the contents inside, to stare at the alcohol.

 

“Hello old friend.” He muttered as he pulled out the first bottle.

 

* * *

 

 

“’Ferre where is he?”

 

“As brilliant as I am, I cannot answer that question E.”

 

Enjolras was pacing at the top of the table in the Musain. The meeting wasn’t meant to start for another five minutes but everyone, Grantaire included, usually arrived in good time in order to get beverages and sometimes food and talk to one another before getting down to business.

 

“Maybe he’s just running late. He’s got a lot going on after all.” Courfeyrac offered. Enjolras sighed in return and took his seat.

 

Just as the clock turned 6:30pm, Grantaire waltzed in… drunk.

 

“Sorry ev’ryone.” He quickly dropped into his usual seat as far away from Enjolras as possible.

 

Enjolras felt hurt, felt personally attacked by the sight presented before him. As he was about to say something, he felt a hand on his shoulder, Combeferre.

 

“Okay people, since we’re all here now, let’s start with the issue of…” Courfeyrac started. Combeferre shared a look with Enjolras, one telling the other that it was okay.

 

Bahorel was next to Grantaire and during a short break he turned to him.

 

“’Taire?” He received a smile in return. “What happened?”

 

“Hush.” And with that Grantaire stood and may his way towards the bar. Musichetta shared a look with Bahorel before sending Bossuet over to the drunken man.

 

“What are you getting?” Grantaire jumped at the voice.

 

“Oh, Bossuet. I was thinking, some, erm, whiskey. It’s been a while since-“

 

“What about the whole, you know, quitting?”

 

“I am a hopeless fool, surely by now you have realised this.”

 

It was here that Enjolras stopped listening. He couldn’t bear to hear Grantaire speak of how he’s giving up. His emotions conflicted between feeling upset, betrayed and a failure. He had set himself the task of helping Grantaire, and he failed, he failed him.

 

The meeting carried on, a glass of whiskey in front of Grantaire that quickly drained.

 

Enjolras felt defeated but was trying to not let it show. He knew he shouldn’t feel so terrible about what had happened, he knew people fell of the horse and knew they could get back on; he wasn’t good at failure though.

 

Grantaire was surrounded by Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta all trying to get him to drink some water but he was refusing.

 

“Enj, should we take him back to ours?” Combeferre asked to which Enjolras nodded.

 

They grabbed their belongings and walked over to Grantaire sharing disgruntled looks with the trio who said their goodbyes before leaving the café.

 

“Hey R, we’ll give you a lift back.” Combeferre stated matter-of-factly. Grantaire just stood (and nearly fell back down) and frowned at the two men.

 

“Am I in trouble?” Grantaire knew he had failed himself and everyone. He didn’t want to be in trouble, didn’t want to feel the wrath of Enjolras but he knew that it was coming whether he liked it or not.

 

“I am disappointed R,” Enjolras sighed, “But I don’t want to shout at you.” This was a partial lie, Enjolras wanted to let out all his emotions to Grantaire, wanted to ask him why he did this, wanted to know why he didn’t come to him for help, wanted him to realise that he is there for him.

 

Grantaire put his head down and picked up his coat before slowly walking to the door. When he stumbled a bit, Enjolras put an arm round him to help him to the car. Grantaire felt disgusted in himself.

 

In the backseat with Enjolras and Combeferre in the front, Grantaire felt tears threaten to fall. He didn’t mean to do this, he didn’t want people to be disappointed or angry or pity him. He didn’t want any of this but he brought it upon himself. No matter how hard he tried he always messed up, it was in his DNA to ruin everything.

 

“Grantaire?” Combeferre sounded worried, “Are you okay back there?”

 

“Yeah.” He sniffled in return which made it obvious that he wasn’t in fact okay.

 

Enjolras turned to look at him but Grantaire refused to look back. He knew that he would only become worse if he saw the look on his face, he knew the tears wouldn’t stop if he looked at Enjolras.

 

He let tears trickle down his face as he looked out the window watching the night life.

 

Enjolras watched him the rest of the way home. He felt as if he could cry as well, from both sadness and anger. He wanted to hold Grantaire and tell him it’d be okay, but he wanted to scream at him at how frustrating he was. He was doing so well and just gave up.

 

Except Enjolras knew he didn’t just give up, he realised that overcoming his alcoholism wouldn’t be smooth sailing. This made him angry at himself; he couldn’t shout at Grantaire for failing because he knew he couldn’t expect him to just do it.

 

Combeferre was worried about what would ensue back at the apartment.


	12. Are You Needing Someone?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions run high.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i want to update this more but it's so hard, i have so many ideas on what the next chapters can be but i am slow at writing. anyway, new chapter, lots of things happening (things start to get a bit better after this)

They made it back to the apartment, Enjolras filled to the brim with a range of emotions, Grantaire ready to cry and Combeferre, for once, not ready for the situation to be presented before him.

“You need water.” Enjolras stated walking into the kitchen. This was obviously directed at Grantaire who was now stood in the hallway curling into himself, hands covered by his jumper sleeves and head looking down.

Combeferre placed a hand on his back and gave him a sympathetic look when he looked up in surprise.

“It’ll be okay.” And then Combeferre went into the living room leaving Grantaire alone in the hallway. He decided to go into the kitchen where Enjolras had not only gotten a pint of water but was looking through cupboards for easy items of food.

“Drink.” Enjolras had a hint of annoyance in his tone; it made Grantaire wince.

Grantaire knew he had messed up, he had realised this before he had even started drinking earlier that day. He did stupid things but he wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what reaction he would receive and he knew how much he would hate it, but he still did it.

Grantaire accepted the glass and gulped down as much as he could which surprisingly wasn’t that much. Enjolras gave him a confused look.

“So you can down alcohol as if it’s going out of fashion, but some water that’s going to help you, no, can’t drink that.” Enjolras had turned away from Grantaire by the end of the sentence. Grantaire felt tears welling behind his eyes. He couldn’t stand how Enjolras was speaking to him, couldn’t stand the fact he had made Enjolras do this.

He put to glass to his lips again and didn’t stop drinking until the contents of the glass were empty and finally slammed the glass on to the table. Enjolras turned with a jump at the sound, an annoyed look on his face.

“Good enough for you.” Grantaire finally spoke, a sudden anger sparked inside of him. “Probably not, here, let me get another, let me drink myself sober with fucking water.” Grantaire made his way to the sink and started to refill the glass. At only halfway full he started to drink again.

“What the fuck R?” Enjolras’ volume had increased. “You’re making this sound as if being sober and not being an alcoholic is such a horrible and hard thing that-“

“It is fucking hard!” Grantaire’s grip on the glass was tightening, “I am an alcoholic, being sober is hard because it makes me deal with life and goddamn do I hate life. I hate living!”

Suddenly the glass broke in his hand. Both men stared at it, a few shards had pierced his skin and blood was slowly making its way out.

“Grantaire?” Enjolras seemed more timid now.

Without looking up from his hand, Grantaire hastily made his way into the bathroom and locked the door behind him.

His eyes were fixated on the wound and he willed his mind in to trying to feel it because he was sure he was losing his mind when he couldn’t detect the pain.

“Enjolras? What the hell happened?” Grantaire could hear muffled voices from behind the door.

Grantaire felt his breathing pick up pace as more blood came out. He went to pull out one of the pieces of glass but stopped as he heard a knock on the door.

“Grantaire? It’s ‘Ferre, let me in?” His voice was comforting, no hints of anything other than worry. Grantaire didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want Combeferre to come in and take pity on the mess he was.

He slid down the door into a sitting position, his knees at his chest and his head against the door. His breathing was getting worse and he could feel the pain in his hand now – it was getting worse.

“R?” This time it was Enjolras. To Grantaire’s surprise he sounded upset. “I’m sorry.”

Grantaire felt tears fall at this. Enjolras shouldn’t have to apologise, it wasn’t his fault. Grantaire had ruined everything, he was doing well, he was going to get better but he failed once again. He couldn’t do anything right.

“Grantaire? Please?” Grantaire was sobbing now. He couldn’t control his breathing, he couldn’t control anything. His hand was throbbing, his mind was a mess and he didn’t know what to do.

He wanted help; he wanted to let both Enjolras and Combeferre in and feel comforted by them, but he knew that wouldn’t happen, they’d come in and be disgusted at the mess. Blood had dripped from his hand and he must have touched the walls because he could see faint finger prints in places. He didn’t want to be trapped in this bathroom hiding from them but he couldn’t face them.

On the other side of the door, Combeferre and Enjolras were becoming increasingly worried, Enjolras himself was on the verge of tears.

“I fucked up ‘Ferre.” Enjolras whispered to him. “I’m a fucking idiot.”

“Enjolras. I’m glad you’re taking the blame here but we need to get in the bathroom now, okay?” Combeferre was using his calm and in-control voice which Enjolras knew was a façade, he was just as worried.

“Sorry. What do we do?”

As Grantaire panicked in the bathroom, Combeferre and Enjolras spoke words of comfort through the door. Combeferre told Grantaire instructions on what to do with his hand and how to calm his breathing – it only helped a bit. Enjolras was telling Grantaire that he was sorry and that he hadn’t meant for this, he told Grantaire that although he didn’t understand he would always try.

Grantaire did his best to listen to both men, but it was hard. His head was spinning, he was becoming lightheaded and wanted to be sick. He wanted someone with him, needed someone, he needed to feel someone’s touch to ground him.

“Enjolras?” His voice was weak but audible.

“Yes?” He eagerly replied.

Grantaire scooted far enough away from the door that he could open it slightly. At this Enjolras took a deep breath and carefully stepped into the bathroom not knowing what to expect.

He saw traces of blood by the sink but the main thing he saw was just Grantaire. He had blood over him and his face was red from crying which he was still doing, his chest was rising and falling at a tremendously fast pace.

Enjolras kneeled by him and looked him in the eye. Grantaire stared back.

“We need to sort your hand.” Enjolras was quiet, he was being careful with the other man. Grantaire nodded in return and looked to his hand.

Enjolras gently grasped Grantaire’s wrist and slowly stepped up pulling the other with him. He lead him over to the sink.

“Can we call Combeferre in? He knows what to do better than me.”

“Yeah.”

So Combeferre came in, glanced around quickly before coming over to the men. He had brought some items with him; he had tweezers, anti-septic spray and some bandages. Enjolras stepped out the way and Grantaire’s eyes followed him, filled with worry, so Enjolras grabbed his non-injured hand and squeezed gently.

Grantaire’s breathing had started to calm but as Combeferre started to take the glass out of his hand and clean it, he started to gasp slightly at the pain. He felt like a fool, he had done this to himself.

“I’m nearly done, R.” Combeferre said to try relax him with the thought that it’d be over soon.

Grantaire hadn’t stopped crying throughout the experience and he had been tightly gripping the hand that held his. He had whined from time to time at movements that particularly stung and yelped when the anti-septic spray was applied.

“You’re doing great, it’s nearly over now.” Enjolras rubbed his thumb over Grantaire’s hand. “I’m here.”

Enjolras was cursing himself in his mind, he didn’t often lose it like this. He got angry a lot, but had never done something so stupid, stupid enough to hurt someone. He was meant to be helping Grantaire, not hurting him.

Seeing Grantaire in this situation broke Enjolras’ heart, he couldn’t stand it. He wanted all his friends to be happy, he wanted Grantaire especially to be happy. Grantaire was a wild soul, and although he was frustrating and could be annoying, he was part of the group, he helped out with anything he could and he provided a lot of good spirit to everyone in times of need.

Now Grantaire was in need and Enjolras was going to do his best to put him back in good spirits, he would do anything and everything he could for the other man.


	13. Maybe I Could Be The One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras and Grantaire have a better talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, remember this? sorry it's taking so long but this chapter is just a nice little thing, it's cute, it's what the boys deserve

Grantaire’s hand was clean and wrapped up and all three had left the bathroom and were stood in the kitchen.

“I think you two need to talk,” Combeferre said looking between the two, ”and I’m going to trust you to not turn it into something like we just witnessed.”

“It won’t happen,” Enjolras turned to Grantaire, “I promise.” Grantaire nodded at both men.

He wasn’t feeling too great still, he was in his usual post-breakdown state of wanting attention and affection but he also dreaded what was coming. He was scared that, even though Enjolras promised it wouldn’t, it would turn into another argument.

Enjolras hadn’t let go of Grantaire since he could first touch him again. He guided them both to his room in hopes that after any talk they have they can rest, or that he can leave Grantaire to sleep in a bed as he goes to the sofa – which ever the other would prefer.

They sank down onto the double bed, Grantaire looking at the floor and Enjolras staring at him.

“I’m sorry, R, so so sorry. I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologise to me please.” Grantaire looked up at him, “It wasn’t your fault, I messed up and drank and-“

“But I should have been supportive and not shouted at you.” Grantaire tried to oppose this but couldn’t think of anything. “I shouldn’t have treated you like shit because you had a bad day, it’s bound to happen with quitting anything.”

They both repositioned themselves on the bed so were in the centre and facing one another. Enjolras laced his fingers with Grantaire’s unbandaged hand. In his head he wished he could hold the other man fully, show him so much affection to try fix the previous situation, but he didn’t want to overpower the other.

“I told you I’m going to be here, and Grantaire, I promise I will. I want to help you through all of this. I know that I can be this aggressive and mean and just-“

“A bitch?” Grantaire chuckled.

“Ha, yeah, I guess.” Enjolras smiled. “I’m used to getting what I want done first try, but that’s usually essays and rallies and things that don’t involve emotions and being human. This is something new.”

“But your rallies are about being human. They’re about human rights, feeding the poor, housing the homeless.”

“They’re causes for hundreds of people, not something like this which is one person… which is you. You’re an important person in my life, you’re not just someone on the street who is a part of my cause, you are the cause in this case.”

Grantaire was chewing his lip. He couldn’t process the words coming from Enjolras’ mouth at the moment. They were so confusing to Grantaire’s mind. They were full of emotion and something new from Enjolras.

“Grantaire?” Suddenly Enjolras’ hand was on his cheek, his fingers wiping away what must have been more tears.

“I’m fine, it’s just… what you’re saying is so, it’s, I’ve never-“

“It’s okay.” Enjolras moved closer and pulled him into a gentle embrace.

Grantaire never thought he’d see this side of Enjolras. He never realised how affectionate and caring he could be; at the meetings he had only witnessed the driven and passionate Enjolras, never the gentle and soft Enjolras – but how would someone lead a group of people with a personality as delicate as Jehan (not that there is any issue with the beauty that is Jehan).

“I don’t know what happened, like, I just fucked up.” Grantaire moved closer into Enjolras’ embrace. “I had a nightmare the night before, and, the days before were just, they were shit. I tried boxing and there’s just this craving.”

“Even a strong man can fall, R.”

“This was more than a fall, Enj, this was a full on dive off a cliff. Without a parachute.”

Enjolras had to bite his tongue to stop himself from saying ‘I’ll be your parachute’ because metaphors aren’t his thing but also he knew how much shit he’d get off Grantaire in the future for being ridiculously cringy.

Enjolras instead settled for, “Well, let’s take it as a lesson to not do that again. Jumping off cliffs isn’t a smart idea.”

“What if I don’t learn a lesson from this?”

“I think you have.” Enjolras gently grasped the injured hand and glanced over it. Grantaire pulled it back to his side.

“Okay, maybe I have. But I still might drink again.”

“I know, but you won’t do it to this extreme again. And hopefully you’ll remember the support system and use it, use us.”

Grantaire hummed in acknowledgement and buried his face into Enjolras’ shoulder who in return tightened his hold.

“Can we talk about something else? I want a nice topic instead of me.”

“Any suggestions? What do you like?”

“Pancakes.” Enjolras chuckled at this.

“I’ve not had those in a while.”

“There’s this place in town, me and Ep used to go a lot, they do really amazing pancakes with loads of different toppings.”

“Lemon and sugar?”

“Of course, that’s the most basic topping for a sweet pancake.”

“Well, it’s my favourite.”

“Be adventurous E.”

“Why don’t we go in the morning then? Take Ferre as well obviously, he deserves pancakes.”

“Maybe he’ll choose a better topping than you.”

“Do you mock everything I like? Politics, education, pancake topping.” They both laughed.

“I only mock the funny stuff.” Grantaire yawned. “It just seems that everything is funny with you.”

“Maybe I should be more serious.”

“Not possible, you’re the most serious person I know. But it’s funny. Sometimes.”

“You know what, I think maybe you should sleep and stop attacking me like this.”

Grantaire already had his eyes closed as he fell backwards to lie down, bringing Enjolras down with him.

“I love you.” Grantaire quietly murmured in his tired state and within minutes he was asleep.

Enjolras didn’t know what to do, what to say. Was it just a sleep-deprived comment? Was it just a friendly thing? Was it a joke? He didn’t know what to think, he needed to sleep.

He gently shuffled around next to Grantaire to get comfortable when the other man moved to lay his head on his chest. Enjolras just smiled and closed his eyes.

He could get used to this.


End file.
